


The Royal and the Traitor

by Eleana_Lee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Flangst?, M/M, teaser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleana_Lee/pseuds/Eleana_Lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lone wolf that no one trusts meets another lone wolf that trusts no one in a reunion they did not expect</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Royal and the Traitor

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: OOCness, AU
> 
> Disclaimer: obviously, Harry Potter is not written by me. If it were, it would be so lame, that this fandom would be non-existent. And I would be off writing another book instead of fanfics
> 
> A/N: so someone was visiting and my sisters and them were deciding on what movie to watch for the night. I watched the Divergent trailer, and this fic is inspired by one of the scenes in the trailer. I haven’t written in such a long time that I’m actually afraid I might be losing my touch, but hopefully not.
> 
> It is a part of a much bigger universe, but I’m not sure if I can or will write out the universe, so here’s the teaser for it. If a lot of people like it, I might consider fleshing it out into a proper multi-chaptered fic, so please leave comments about what you think =)
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry sighed as he took off his shirt.  It was caked with blood; thankfully not his own, but it made it highly uncomfortable to wear.  Plus, the smell of blood was off-putting.  He might have to burn it later, because no one in their right mind would launder it for him, and he didn’t have the luxury of letting his guard down long enough to wash and dry it.

 

He rummaged through his duffel bag for a clean shirt to wear, and his mind wandered off to the quiet man staying in the room across from him.  He wondered if saving him had been a good idea, but now that the deed was done, there was nothing left to do but wonder.

 

The man was being led to a sacrificial altar by a pair of magical handcuffs around his wrists, and it was purely by chance that Harry had happened across the demons and him.

 

Normally, he wouldn’t care what the demons did and would leave them to their own devices.  However, he glimpsed a mark that looked like a black sun on the man’s nape.

 

It was the mark of the Royals, a special breed of people capable of communicating with the Spirit Guides of the world.  The people looked at them as their leaders, as they were able to ask for guidance and advice on what to do in dire situations.  More often than not, the Spirit Guides had led the kingdoms they led to prosperity.

 

The demons were at a constant war with the Spirit Guides.  When they came to Earth, they lost contact with the Spirit Guides, so the next best thing they could do was to hunt down the Royals.

 

Harry sighed again.  It shouldn’t have been his problem.  He was never led by a Royal, and he didn’t care much about the war between the demons and the Spirit Guides.  However, something made him intervene; made him fight the demons off and break the magical handcuffs, even if it had burned his own hands.

 

“Hey,” a soft, timid voice called from the doorway, and Harry turned to see the man standing there; his dark brown hair falling into his eyes, and the scar that ran from his left temple towards his jaw was more prominent now that they weren’t in the darkness anymore.  “I, um, I got some salve for your burns.”

 

Harry nodded.  “Just put it on the night stand,” he said, turning back to his bag.  “I’ll use it later.”

 

“Why are you showing your back to me?” the man asked.  “Are you not afraid that I will kill you?”

 

Harry chuckled dryly.  “Someone told me that I trust too easily.”

 

“You do.”

 

“And what about you?” Harry asked, glancing at the man.  “You don’t trust anyone?”

 

“I… I’m not like you,” the man said.  “Such a sad fate for a kind heart like yours; that no one trusts you.”

 

“The fault, as they say it, is in my stars,” Harry said with a shrug.  “You cannot choose who you were born as.  Did you ask to be one of the Royals?”

 

“The Royal,” the man murmured sadly.  “I am the only one left of the Royals now.  Had you not intervened, the demons would have been victorious in their war against the Spirit Guides.”

 

“I see,” Harry said.  His chest tightened at that admission.

 

“To answer your question,” he added, “no, I don’t trust anyone.  I was sold to the demons by the very people I led.  They were not happy that I could not give them instant results, and they turned to the demons, who promised them sweet lies.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said.  “But why did you say that no one trusts me?”

 

“I know you are a demon,” the man said softly, stepping closer to Harry.  He lifted his hand, but it hovered inches away from Harry’s back.  “May I?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

The man slowly pressed his fingertips to Harry’s back, and began tracing the markings there.  “I know these marks,” he said softly.  “A fire demon, but one exiled by his own kind.  You bear the mark of the traitor.  The humans don’t trust demons, and the demons don’t trust a traitor.”

 

“You are very knowledgeable,” Harry commented.  “Why do you know so much about the marks of the demons?”

 

“Because I fell in love with one,” the man admitted.  His hands fell back to his sides, and he stepped away from Harry.  “It was a long time ago.  He was kind; too kind for a demon.  He should never have been born a demon.”

 

“Where is this demon?”

 

“I don’t know,” the man said sadly.  “The demons attacked my village, and he helped me escape, but I have never seen him since.  The demons are a vicious breed.  I fear that he might not have survived whatever punishment they dealt him, and it would have been all my fault too.  The people who sold me knew about it, and they didn’t hesitate to sell me because they thought I was already corrupted by the demons, and that was why the Spirit Guides wouldn’t help them through me.”

 

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Harry said, reaching out towards the man.  He flinched slightly, but allowed Harry to rest his hand on his cheek.

 

“How would you know?” he asked with a frown.

 

“Because I was branded as a traitor for saving the one I love,” Harry said.  “What a pair we are, huh?  One who cannot trust anyone, and one who’s not trusted by anyone.  We both got into trouble for falling in love with someone we probably shouldn’t.”

 

“Do you regret it, though?” the man asked, holding onto Harry’s hand.

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Nor do I.”

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway,” Harry said, shaking his head.  He retracted his hand, and saw a flash of disappointment in the man’s eyes.  “You said you are the only Royal left, right?  He probably died, then.  I wasn’t able to save him, in the end.”

 

“What—what did they do to you when you were branded as a traitor?”

 

“They burned me alive,” Harry said, wincing at the memory of all the heat and pain.  “I’m a fire demon, but even their fire still burned me.  I had to spend months in a hideout to prepare a new vessel for myself.  I found the body of a mountaineer who died in a freak accident, and just in time, too.  Any longer and I would have died.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” the man said with a smile.  “And I’m sorry about the one you loved.  I might be wrong.  There might be another Royal still alive.”

 

Harry huffed a bitter laugh.  “It’s fine, you don’t have to console me,” he said, turning away from the man.  “Draco was too good for me, anyway.  I just hope he’s now happy, at least.”

 

“Draco…?” the man trailed off.  “H—Harry?”

 

“How do you know my name?” Harry asked, turning around quickly to face the man again.  “Do you know him?”

 

The man’s eyes welled with tears.  “Harry, it’s me.  I’m Draco.”

 

Slowly, the man began taking off the wig he was wearing, and took off the glasses he was wearing.  His platinum blonde hair fell freely, and without the reflective glare from his glasses, it was easy to see his brilliant slate grey eyes.

 

“Draco?” Harry asked in reverent awe, as if not believing that the stars could favour him.  “Is it really you?”

 

“Yes, Harry,” Draco said, reaching out to cup Harry’s cheeks in his hands.  “It is me.”

 

“I’m—I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you,” Harry said, smoothing his thumb over the raised scar on Draco’s face.  “And I’m sorry this happened to you.”

 

Draco shook his head.  “It was this scar, or losing my sight.  And you.  I didn’t recognise you either.”

 

Harry smiled at him.  “Is this vessel to your liking?”

 

Draco laughed, the sound so free and full of joy, and for the first time in a long time, Harry began to hope.  He began to hope that maybe, just maybe, Fate would favour them.

 

“I don’t care,” Draco said.  “Even if you had taken an elderly man as your vessel, I wouldn’t care.  You’ve saved me again, and you still love me, even after all the pain and suffering.  I am the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

 

“How about we just agree that we both deserve each other, and celebrate this reunion?” Harry asked with a smile.  “And we can think about the future later.”

 

“I like the sound of that.”

 

So Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him up, while Draco cupped Harry’s cheeks and pulled him down.  Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss; long-awaited and overdue, but a kiss they cherished all the same, and a kiss they know they would be able to share again in the future, now that they were both here, in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, if you enjoyed that, please leave a comment because I’m a comment whore :P


End file.
